The Castle of Love

fol. 293r (V)Her byginnet a tretysThat is yclept Castel of Love,That Bisschop Grosteyzt made, ywis,For lewede mennes byhove.

That good thenketh good may do, And God wol helpe him therto, For nas nevere good werk wrought Withoute beginninge of good thought, line5Ne never was wrought non uvel thing That uvel thought nas the beginnyng. God, Fader and Sone and Holi Gost, That alle thing on eorthe sixt and wost, That o God art and Thrillihod line10And threo Persones in onhod, Withouten ende and biginninge, To Whom we oughten over alle thinge Worschupe Him with trewe love, That kineworthé Kyng art us above, line15In Whom, of Whom, thorw Whom beoth Al the goodschipes that we here iseoth; He leve us thenche and worchen so That He us schylde from ure fo. Alle we habbeth to help neode, line20That we ne beth alle of one theode, Ne iboren in one londe, Ne one speche understonde; Ne mowe we alle Latin wite, Ne Ebreu, ne Gru that beth iwrite, line25Ne French, ne this other spechen That me mihte in world sechen, To herie God, ure derworthé Drihte. As uche mon oughte with al his mihte Loftsong syngen to God yerne, line30With such speche as he con lerne, No monnes mouth ne be idut, Ne his ledene be ihud, To serven his God, That him wroughte And maade al the world of noughte. line35On Englisch ichul mi resun schowen For him that con not iknowen Nouther French ne Latyn.

On Englisch ischulle tellen him Wherfore the world was iwrouht, line40Theraftur how he was bitauht Adam, ure fader, to ben his, With al the merthe of paradys, To wonen and welden to such ende, Til that he scholde to hevene wende. line45And hou sone he hit forles, And seththen hou hit forbouht wes Thorw the heighe Kynges Sone, That here on eorthe wolde come For His sustren that were toboren, line50And for a prison that was forloren. And hou He made, as ye schul heeren, That heo icuste and sauht weren; And to whuche a castel He alihte, Tho He wolde here for us fihte, line55That the Marie bodi wes, That He alihte and His in ches. And tellen we schulen of Ysay, That us tolde trewely, “A Child ther is iboren to us line60And a Sone igiven us, Whos nome shal inempned beon Wonderful, as me may iseon, And God, Mihtful and Rihtwys, Of the world that comen is, line65Lord the Fader and Prince of Pes.” Alle theos nomen hou He wes Ye schulen iheren and iwiten, And of Domesday hou hit is ywriten; And of hevene we schulen telle, line70And sumdel of the pynen of helle.

fol. 293vThauh hit on Englisch be dim and derk Ne nabbe no savur bifore clerk, For lewed men that luitel connen, On Englisch hit is thus bigonnen. line75Ac whose is witer and wys of wit And yerne biholdeth this ilke writ And con that muchel of luitel unlouken And hony of the harde ston souken, Alle poyntes he fynde may line80Of ure beleeve and Godes lay, That bifalleth to Godes godhede, As wel as to His monhede.

Ofte ye habbeth iherd ar this Hou the world imaked is; line85Forthi ne kep I nought to telle Bote that falleth to my spelle. In sixe dayes and seve niht God hedde al the world idiht, And tho al was derworthliche ido. line90The sevethe day He tok reste and ro.

Lustneth to me, lordynges, Tho God atte begynnynges Hedde imaad hevene with ginne, And the angeles so briht withinne, line95And the eorthe therafter therwith, And al that evere in hire bilyth, Lucifer in hevene wox so proud, And he was anon icast out, And mo angeles then eni tonge mai telle line100Fullen adoun with him to helle. And yit was the sonne tho seve sythe, iwis, Brihtore forsothe then heo now is; Also schon the mone aniht, So doth the sonne on dayliht. line105Ne holde ye hit not for folye, For so seith the prophete Ysaye. Alle the schaftes that tho weren More might and strengthe beren Bifore that Adam the world forles. line110Allas, whuch serwe and deol ther wes.

Alle heo beoth ibrouht to grounde, That of his ofspringe beoth ifounde; Of hevene blisse heo beoth iflemed And to deolful deth idemed. line115The reson is good and feir forwhi, As ichulle ow telle forthi That ye schule love God the more And Him serven and clepe to His ore.

Tho God hedde al the world iwrought line120That ther ne faylede right nought — Beest ne fisch ne foul to fleon, And uche thing as hit oughte to beon: Blosme on bough and breer on rys, And alle thing betere then hit nou is. line125And tho He hedde al wel idon He com to the valeye of Ebron; Ther He made Adam alast, so riche Of eorthe, after Hymself iliche, And aftur His holy Thrillihod line130He schop his soule feir and good. How mighte He him more love schowen Then His oune liknesse habben and owen? To paradys He ladde him tho And caste sleep on him also, line135That of his syde a rib he nom And therof Eve, his feere, com; He gaf Adam Eve to wyve To helpen; He gaf him wittes fyve To delen that uvel from the good, line140Yif he wel Him understood. He gaf him yit more worschipe: Of al the world the lordschipe, And alle the schaftes of water and lond Scholden ben under his hond. line145Feirlek and freodam and muche miht, And the world to delen and diht, And paradys to wonen in, Withouten wo and serwe and pyn, Withouten deth in goode lyve, line150Ther joye and blisse is so ryve, And evere to libben iliche yong, Othat of hem to weren and-sprong The noumbre of the soulen that from hevene felle Thorw Lucifer adoun to helle. line155And whon hit forth com al the stren, So bright heo scholden iblessed ben So was the sonne, as I er tolde, Brihtore then heo now is sevenfolde. And so heo scholden to hevene wende, line160To the blisse withouten ende, Withouten drede of dethes dome. And al the ofspring that of hem come, From that ilke day to this, Scholde so steyghen to hevene blis, line165To the heritage of wynne and wele, Among the murthe of aungeles fele.

Two lawen Adam scholde iwis Witen and holden in paradis: That on him was thorw kynde ilet, line170That other was clept lawe iset. That on him taughte atte leste Thorw kynde to holden Godes heste; That othur lawe that him was set: “Of the appel yow never ne et, line175Of the tre that is forbode,” So He seide; that highte Gode That, whon he of the appel ete, Thorw deth he scholde the lyf forlete, And al the kynde that of him com line180Scholde thole thulke dom; And yif he heolde His heste riht, God gaf him so muche miht To welden al this worldes winne, Withouten wo and serwe and sinne. line185The seisyn hedde Adam tho To wonen in blisse evere and o — In muche mirthe and joye he wes. Awei to sone he hit forles, His worschipe and his welfare, line190And broughte us alle in muche care. Tho he of the appel eet, Godes heste he tobrek; The kuyndeliche and the set ek, Bothe His lawen he tobrek; line195And rathure he dude his wyves bode Then he heold the heste of Gode.

Thus Adam thorw reuthful rage Was cast out of his heritage, And out of paradys idrive, line200In swynk and swot in world to live. The blisse of lyf he hath forsaken And to deolful deth him itaken; Carfuliche he hath icoren. Now he thorw right hath iloren line205The murthe that he mighte haven. Whom mai he to helpe craven? Out of his heritage he is pult For synne and for his owne gult. Lucifer gon wel lyke tho, line210Tho Adam was biswiken so, For alle the fendes hedden onde That he scholde come to that blisful londe; That he hedde thorw pruide forlore, Wel hit likede hem therfore. line215So muche wox heore miht tho That al the world moste after hem go, And whon mon hedde ilived in care, Atte laste he moste dyen and forthfare; Ne mighte him helpe no good dede line220That his soule moste to helle neede, For so hit was tho Adam bispeke, And God nolde no forward breke. For eyle and hard and muche hit wes — The synne that thus the world forles — line225That uche thing under hevene Driht So muche les of strengthe and miht. God ne wrouhte never that thing But hit out les thorw his wonyng; For nis no wone on him ilong, line230Yif synne nere so hard and strong, For God gaf uche thing al his riht, Ac sunne wonede heore alremiht, For sunne and wone, al is on, And wone dude Adam tho anon, line235Tho he Godes heste atseet, And eke tho he the appel eet. Thorw wone he lees his seysyne, Thorw wone he brouhte himself in pyne. In the kynges court yit uche day line240Me useth thulke selve lay.

Now is Adam with wo inome! Sunnes thral he is bicome, That freore was er then enything That livede under hevene Kyng. line245He is, thorw riht, theuwe and thral To whos servise he understod withal, Whon he him serwede in thedome And diyede withouten fredome. And theuwe and thral may not crave line250Thorw riht non heritage to have: As sone as he is thral bicome, His heritage is him binome. In court ne in none londe Me ne oughte onswere him, ne undurstonde. line255Thenne he mot another seche For to schewe for him his speche, That mowe his heritage crave; And that he the kynde have, That he beo iboren fre line260And that he ne eete of the tre; That he habbe iwust withinne The threo lawen withouten synne: Thulke two of paradys, And thulke of the Mount Synays line265That to Moyses igiven was, That never yute iholde nas Of non that ever dude sunne. Who mihte thenne such mon munne, Other thenchen or iknowe, line270That such wonder mihte schowe? Siggen I may in this stude Therof that ich er dude, For nou ichul tellen of the stryf, That among the foure sustren lith.

line275Hit was a Kyng of muche miht, Of good wille and gret insiht, And this Kyng hedde a Sone Of such wit and of such wone, Of such strengthe and of such chere, line280As was His Fader in His manere. Of on wille Heo weoren bo, And of on studefastschipe also; Of on fulnesse Heo weoren outriht, And bothe Heo weoren of on miht. line285Thorw the Sone the Fader al begon That bilay to His kynedom; Al that was of His begynnynge The Fader wolde to ende bringe.

Foure douhtren hedde the Kyng, line290And to uchone sunderlyng He gaf a dole of His fulnesse, Of His miht and of His wysnesse, As wolde befallen to uchon (And yit was al the folnesse on line295That to Himself bilay), Withoute whom He ne mai His kindom with pees wysen, Ne with rihte hit justisen. Good is to nempnen hem forthi: line300The furste doughter hette Merci The Kynges eldeste doughter heo is; That other hette Soth, iwis; The thridde soster is cleped Right; Pees hette the feorthe, aplight. line305Withouten theos foure with worschipe Mai no kyng lede gret lordschipe.

This Kyng, as you herdest ar this, Hedde a thral that dude amis, That, for his gult strong and gret, line310With his Lord was so ivet fol. 294rThat, thorw besiht of riht dom, To strong prison was idon, And bitaken to alle his fon, That sore him pyneden, everichon, line315That of nothing heo nedden onde Bote him to habben under honde. Heo him duden in prisun of deth And pyneden him sore, withouten meth.

De Misericordia

Merci that anon iseigh; line320Hit eode hire herte swithe neih, Ne mai hire nothing lengore holde, Byforen the Kyng comen heo wolde To schewen forth hire resoun And to dilyvere the prisoun. line325“Understond,” quath heo, “Fader myn, Thow wost that I am douhter Thyn And am ful of boxumnes, Of milce and of swetnes, And al ich habbe, Fader, of Thee. line330I beseche that Thou here me, That the wrecche prisoun Mote come to sum raunsum, That amidden alle his fon In strong prison hast idon. line335Heo him made agulte, thulke unwreste, And biswikede him thorw heor feire beheste And seiden him yif he wolde the appel ete, That whon he hedde al iete, He scholde habbe al the miht of Gode line340Of the treo that him was forbode, And begilede him therof, and heo luytel roughten, For falshede ever yite heo souhten. And falshede hem iyolde be, And the wrecche prisun isold to me. line345For Thow art Kyng of boxumnes, Of milce and of swetnes, And I Thi douhter alre eldest, Over alle the othere beldest. Nevere I Thi douhter neore line350Bote milce toward him were. Milce and merci he schal have, Thorw milce ichulle the prisun crave; For Thin owne swete pité I schal him bringe to saveté. line355Thi milce for him I crie evermore; And have of him milce and ore.”

De Veritate

Anon whon Soth this iseigh, Hou Merci, hire soster, hir herte beigh And wolde this thral of prisun bringe, line360That Riht hedde him idemet withouten endinge, Al heo chaunged hire mood And biforen the Kyng heo stood: “Fader, I Thee biseche, herkne to me. I ne may forbere to telle hit Thee line365Hou hit me thinketh a wonder thing Of Merci my suster wilnyng, That wolde, with hire milsful sarmon, Dilivere the thral out of prison, That swithe agulte, ther ich hit seih line370And tolde hit to Riht, that stood me neih. Fader, ich sigge Thee forthi: Thou ouhtes nought to heere Merci Of no boone that heo bisecheth Thee, Bote Riht and Sooth thermide be. line375And Thow lovest soth and hatest lees, For of Thi fulnesse icomen ich wes, And eke Thow art Kyng rihtwys, And Merci herte so reuthful is That yif heo mai save with hire mylde speche line380Al that heo wole fore biseche, Never schal be misdede abouht, And Thou, Kyng, schalt be douted right nouht. Thou art also so trewe a Kyng And stable of thought in alle thyng; line385Forthi me thinketh Merci wilneth wough And speketh togeynes Right inough, For Riht con hym in prison bynde, He oughte nevere milce to fynde. Milce and merci he hath forloren; line390He was warned therof biforen. Whi scholde me helpe thulke mon, That nedde of himself pité non? His dom he mot habbe, as Soth con sugge, And al his misdede abugge.”

De Justicia

line395Riht iherde this talkyng, Anon heo stod bifore the Kyng. “Thi doughter,” heo seith, “I am I wot bi thon, For Thou art Kyng, riht Domesmon: Ther beth rihte domes mitte; line400Alle Thine werkes beth ful of witte. This thral of whom my sustren mene Hath dome deservet as at ene, For in tyme while that he freo wes, He hedde with him bothe Merci and Pees, line405And Soth and Riht he hedde bo, And with his wille he wente hem fro And tyed hym to wraththe and wough, To wreccheddam and serwe inough. So that yif Riht geth, line410He schal evere tholyen deth: For tho Thow him the heste hightest, Thorw Soth Thou him the deth dightest, And I myself him gaf the dom As sone as he hedde the gult idon, line415For Soth bereth witnesse therto, And elles nedde I no dom ido. Yif he in court biforen us were, The dom Thou scholdest sone ihere.” For Riht ne spareth for to jugge line420Whatsoevere Soth wol sugge. Thorw wisdam heo demeth alle As wole to his gult bifalle.

Soth and Riht, lo, thus heo suggeth, And this thral to dethe juggeth. line425Never nouther ne speketh him good, Ne non that Merci understood. Ac as a mon misirad, On uche half he is misbilad; Ne helpeth him nothing wherso he wende, line430That his fo fetteth him in uche ende And istrupt him al start naked, Of might and strengthe al bare imaked. Him and al that of him sprong He dude a theuwedam vyl and strong line435And made agult swithe ilome. And Riht com after with hire dome, Withouten Merci and Pees, heo con jugge Ever aftur that Soth wol sugge. Ne Pees mot not mid hem be; line440Out of londe heo mot fle, For Pees bileveth in no londe Wher ther is werre, nuth, and onde; Ne Merci mot not among hem live, Ac bothe heo beth of londe idrive. line445Nis ther nout in world bileved That nis destrued and todreved, And dreynt, forloren, and fordemed, But eighte soulen that weren iyemed In the schup, and that weoren heo: line450Noé and his sones threo, And heore wyves that heo hedden bifore; Of al the world nas beleved more. Careful herte him oughte come, That thencheth uppon the dredful dome; line455And al hit is thorw Riht and Soth, That withouten Pees and Merci doth.

De Pace

So that Pees alast upbreek And thus to hire Fader speek: “I am Thi doughter saught and some, line460And of Thi fulnesse am I come. Tofore Thee my playnt I make: Mi two sustren me habbeth forsake. Withouten me heo doth heore dom; Ne Merci among hem nought ne com, line465For nothing that I mighte do. Ne moste Merci hem come to — Ne for none kunnes fey — Ne moste ich hem come neygh; Ak that dom is al heore owen. line470Forthi ich am of londe iflowen And wole with Thee lede my lyf, Ever othat ilke stryf That among my sustren is awake Thorw sauhtnesse mowe sum ende take. line475Ac what is hit ever the bet That Riht and Soth ben iset, Bote heo witen wel the pees? Rihtes mester hit is and wes In uche dom pees to maken. line480Schal I thenne beo forsaken, Whon everiche good for me is wrouht, And to habben me bithouht? Ak he ne lovede me nevere to fere That Merci, my suster, nul not here.

line485Of us foure, Fader, ichul telle Thee Hou me thinketh hit oughte to be. Whon the foure beth togedere isent To don an evene juggement, And schul thorw skil alle and some line490Given and demen evene dome, Ther ne oughte no dom forth gon, Er then the foure ben at on. At on heo moten atstonden alle And loken seththen hou dom wol falle. line495Be us foure, this I telle: We beoth not alle of on spelle; Bothe ich and Merci, We beclepeth the dom forthi; Hit is al as Right and Soth wol deme, line500Merci ne me nis hit not qweme. Withouten us ther is bale to breme, Forthi, Fader, Thow nime yeme! Of uche goodschipe Pees is ende, Ne fayleth no weole ther heo wol lende, line505Ne wisdam nis not worth an hawe Ther Pees fayleth to felawe, And hose Pees loveth withouten gabbe, Pees withouten ende he schal habbe. Mi word oughte ben of good reles, line510For Thou art Kyng and Prince of Pes; Forthi Thou oughtest to here me, And Merci, my suster, that clepeth to Thee, That the thral, the prisoun, Mote come to sum raunsoun. line515Ure wille, Fader, Thou do sone, And here ure rihte bone, For Merci evere clepeth to Thee Til that the prison dilyvered be, And ichul fleon and nevere come line520Bote my sustren ben saught and some.”

The Kynges Sone al this con heren, Hou His sustren hem tobeeren, And seigh this strif so strong awaken, And Pees and Merci al forsaken, line525That withouten help of His wisdome Ne mihten heo nevere togedere come. “Leove Fader,” quath He, “Ich am Thi sone Of Thi wit and of Thi wone, And Thi wisdam me clepeth Me. line530And so muche Thou lovedest Me That al the world for Me Thou wrouhtest, And so Thou Me in Thy werke broughtest, For We beoth on in one fulnesse, In miht, in strengthe, and in heighnesse. line535Ichulle al don that Thi wille is, For Thou art Kyng rihtwis So muche, Fader, Ich nyme yeme Of this strif that is so breme, That for the tale that Merci tolde Thee line540Ful sore the prisun reweth Me; Forthi he reweth Me wel the more, For Merci evere clepeth Thin ore. Thou art, Fader, so milsful King; Hire We schul heren of alle thing: line545Al hire wille Ichulle done And sauhten Soth and hire ful sone. Nimen Ichulle the thralles weden, As Soth and Riht hit wolden and beoden, And alone Ichul holde the doom, fol. 294vAs justise ouhte to don, line551And maken Ichule Pees to londe come, And Pees and Riht cussen and be saught and some, And druyven out werre, nuth, and onde, And saven al the folk in londe.”

line555Hose this forbysene con, He may openliche iseo bi thon That al this ilke tokenynge Is Godes insiht, Almihti Kynge: Withoute God the Fader nis maked nouht, line560Thorw God the Sone is al thing wrouht, And alle thing is folfuld outriht Thorw God the Holigostes miht; And alle threo beth on, thouh hit be so, In one fulnesse and in no mo. line565He giveth His blessynge with mouth and honde To alle that this writ understonde. Ye habbeth iherd as ich ow tolde, Forwhi God the world maken wolde, And hou Adam forles thorw synne line570World and hevene and al monkynne, That for might, ne strengthe, ne for nothing No mon nedde of himself a covryng, Ne angel mighte mon helpe on none wyse, Ne mon mighte himself fro dethe aryse. line575Thenne moste nede beo thorw uche doom That God of hevene mon bicom: Mon the deth tholen thorw serwen ryve And God uprysen from deth to lyve — Elles were alle forlore to nouht, line580That God hedde in the world ibrouht. Herkeneth whuche love and boxumnesse, Whuch milce and eke swetnesse, That God from hevene alihten chees For o sele shepe that He lees; line585The ninti-nine He levede and eode To sechen on in uncouth theode. Thenne nis ther such Herdemon non, Ne non so milsful Lord as He is on. Whose wolde his herte on such Lord holde line590That so muche love him kuithe wolde That lyk Himself wolde him make And sithen deth tholyen for his sake, Er him ouhte the herte tospringe Then he scholde him wraththe for enythinge.

line595Herkeneth now forthure, atte frome, How ur Saveor wolde come. To Abraham the tythinges comen; The prophetes hit undernomen, That is, Moyses and Jonas, line600Abacuk and Helyas, Daniel and Jeremye, David and Ysaye, And Eliseu and Samuel Siggeth Godes comynge wel. line605Wonder hit were hem alle to telle, Ac herkeneth hou Ysaye con spelle:

Puer natus est nobis, filius datus est nobis

“A Child ther is iboren to us And a Sone igeven us, That schal upholden His kynedome, line610And al thus schal ben His nome: Wondurful God, and of Miht, And Redeful, and Fader ariht Of al the world that herafter schal ben, Prince of Pees me schal Him sen.” line615Theos beth the nomen as ye mowe leeven, That the prophetes Him geeven. Yif ye wolen heren tellen ichulle How that Child is Wonderfolle. Such wonder nas never iherd in sawe, line620Ne nevere schal bi none dawe, For no tyme that ever schal come, As God of hevene mon bicome. For hose now iseghe heere A child that riht ilimed nere, line625That threo feet and threo honden beere, And another that otherweis weere, That hedde foot or hond forlore, And heo weore bothe so ibore, Weoren heo wonderfol theose two? line630Nay, forsothe, neoren heo no, For the on hedde kuynde overmeth, And that other to luyte, and so hit geth. Ac hit is as hit mot nede ben, Of unmete kuynde a forschipte streon. line635Ak that mihte muche wonder ben, Yif me mighte eny iseon That monnes kuynde hedde al ariht, That him neore to luite ne to muche wiht, So that he were al sothfast mon, line640That no forschippyng weore him on, And eke were a good hors withalle. Such thing may never bifalle! For hose seghe a such gederyng, He mihte hit clepe a wonder thing. line645And yit is more wonder a thousendfolde Of the Child that Ysayhe oftolde And clepede Him Wonderful for thon That He is soth God and soth mon, For of monhede ne wonteth Him nouht, line650And thorw Him is al thing iwrouht, And withouten Him is synne evere, For wone dude He nevere, Ne no schaft thorw Him mighte lees, As biforen irad wes. line655Othur God nis then He that hevene dihte, That from hevene dude alihte And under ure wede ure kynde nom And al sothfast mon bicom. And whon He wolde alles bicome mon, line660He moste be boren of a wommon, Thulke schaft to underfonge withalle That oughte to monnes kynde bifalle.

God nolde alihte in none manere But in feir stude and in clere. line665In feir stude and clene siker hit wes Ther God almihti His in ches: In a castel wel comeliche, Muche and feir and loveliche, That is the castel of alle flour, line670Of solas and of socour. In the mere he stont bitwene two, Ne hath he ferlak for no fo, For the tour is so wel withouten, So depe idiched al abouten, line675That none kunnes asaylyng Ne may him derven for nothing. He stont on heigh roche and sound, And is iplaned into the ground, That ther ne mai wone non uvel thing, line680Ne derve no gynnes castyng. And thaugh he be so loveliche, He is so dredful and hateliche To alle thulke that ben his fon, That heo flen him everichon. line685Foure smale toures ther beth abouten, To witen the heihe tour withouten. Seththe beoth thre bayles withalle, So feir idiht with strong walle. As heo beoth hereafter iwrite, line690Ne may no mon the feirschipe iwite, Ne no tonge ne may hit telle, Ne thought thenche, ne mouth spelle. On trusti roche heo stondeth faste And with depe diches beth bicaste. line695And the carnels so stondeth upriht, Wel iplaned and feir idiht. Seve berbicans ther beoth iwrouht, With gret ginne al bithouht, And everichon hath gat and tour, line700Ther never ne fayleth socour, Never schal fo him stonde with That thider wol flen to sechen grith. This castel is siker and feir abouten, And is al depeynted withouten line705With threo heowes that wel beth sene. So is the foundement al grene That to the roche faste lith; Wel is that ther murthe isihth, For the greneschipe lasteth evere, line710And his heuh ne leoseth nevere. Seththen, abouten that other heuh, So is inde and eke bleu, That the middel heuh we clepeth ariht, And schyneth so feire and so bright. line715The thridde heuh an ovemast Overwrigheth al and so is icast That withinnen and withouten The castel lihteth al abouten, And is raddore then evere eny rose schal, line720That thuncheth as hit barnde al. Withinne the castel is whit schinynge, So the snowh that is sneuwynge, And casteth that light so wyde Afterlong the tour and besyde, line725That never cometh ther wo ne wouh, Ac swetnesse ther is evere inough. Amidde the heighe tour is springynge A welle that evere is eornynge, With foure stremes that striketh wel line730And erneth uppon the gravel And fulleth the diches aboute the wal. Muche blisse ther is overal: Ne dar he seche non other leche That mai riht of this water cleche. line735In thulke derworthé feire tour Ther stont a trone with much honour Of whit ivori and feirore of liht Then the someres day whon hee is briht. With cumpas ithrowen and with gin al ido; line740Sevene steppes ther beoth therto, That so feire with ordre itiyed beoth; Feiror thing in world no mon seoth, For hevene-bouwe is abouten ibent, With alle the hewes that him beth isent. line745Nevere so feir chayyere Nedde kyng ne emperere. Muche more feirschupe inough ther wes Ther God almighten His in ches. Thenne nis ther such castel non: line750Ne never nas but thulke on, Ne never eft after be ne schal, For God of hevene hit dihte al And wroughte hit himself and al dude, To alihten in thulke feyre stude line755From his kindam above; He cudde the stude much love. This is the castel of love and lisse, Of solace, of socour, of joye and blisse, Of hope, of hele, of sikerness, line760And ful of alle swetnesse.

This is the Maydenes bodi so freo; Ther never nas non bote heo That with so fele thewes iwarned wes, So that swete Mayden Marie wes. line765Heo stont in the mere betwene two; Heo schilde us alle from ure fo That us awayteth day and niht; Heo us helpeth with al hire miht. The roche that is so trewe and trusti, line770That is the Maydenes herte, forthi, That never synne ther-withinne com, Ac heo to serven God al hire nom And wuste hire with muche boxumnesse, Hire maidenhod with swetnesse. line775The foundement that faste to the roche lighth, And the feire greneschipe therwith, Is the Maydenes bileeve so riht, That hath al hire bodi iliht, For hire bileeve that is so trewe, line780That evere is grene and evere newe; For bileeve is apertement Of alle vertues foundement. Of the middel heuh is to wite The swetnesse and the feirschipe. line785That is the bitokenyng: In goode hope as so yong thing Was so bisy in swetnesse To serven God in boxumnesse. fol. 295rThe thridde heuh, and the on ovemast, line790That hath over al his liht icast, And as thaugh hit barnde al hit is (Nis non of so muche pris), That is the clere love and briht That heo is al with iliht line795And itent with the fuir of love, To serve God that is hire above.

The foure smale toures abouten That witeth the heighe tour withouten, Foure hed thewes that aboute hire me iseoth; line800Foure vertues cardinals ther beoth, That is, Strengthe and Sleihschupe, Rihtfulnesse and Worschupe, Everichon with a gat with ginne, That may non uvel come therinne.

line805And whuche beoth the threo baylés yet That with the carnels beth so wel iset And icast with cumpas and walled abouten, That witeth the heihe tour withouten? Bote the inemaste baylé, I wot, line810Bitokneth hire holy maidenhod, That never for nothing iworsed nas, So ful of Godes grace heo was.

The middel baylé, that wite ye, Bitokneth hire holy chastité. line815And seththen the outemaste baylé Bitokneth hire holy sposaylé. Riht me clepeth hem bayles forthi That heo habbeth this Ladi in here bayli, That hireself, one makeles, line820Is Mayden chast and weddet wes. Thorw on of theos bayles he mot teon That wol on ende iborwed beon.

The seve berbicans abouten, That with gret gin beon iwrought withouten line825And witeth this castel so wel, With arwe and with qwarel, That beth the seven vertues, with winne, To overcome the seven dedly sinne: That is Pruide, the beginnynge line830And the roote of al uvel thinge, Al maat and overcomen wes Thorw Boxumnes that heo ches; And hire Trewe Love overcom Envye, And hire Abstinence Glotonye; line835And Lecherye heo made fle Thorw hire holy Chastité; And al was distruyed Covetyse Thorw hire Largesse in uche wyse; And evere Wraththe heo overcom line840Thorw Mekenesse that heo nom; And hire gostliche Gladynge Destruyed Sleuthe thorw alle thinge.

The welle springeth of alle grace That fulleth the diches in uche a place. line845Godes grace todeleth this, Thorw meth with al as His wille is, Ac He lovede so this Mayden, aplight, The folle of grace He hire gaf outriht, Thorwh whom the grace that overfleot line850Socoureth al the world yut. Forthi me may hire riht clepe and calle, “O blessed Ladi” over othere alle. And what mowe the diches be But hire tholemode poverté, line855That nones kunnes assaylyng Ne may derve the tour for nothing, Thorw whom the Fend is overcomen And his miht al bynomen.

For this is the Ladi so gent and fre line860That God seide of to the neddre on the tre That ther scholde comen a wommon blyve That scholde al his hed todryve. Iblessed be this buyrde of prys That over al othure iblessed is, line865That so feir was and good so sone That of hir bodi God made His trone To His owne gistenynge, And nom flesch and blod of hire to bringe His folk out of prisoun: line870That was ure garysoun. This Ladi is feir and good and fre, Whon heo hath so muche bounté, More then eny schaft that wes; Forthi the Rihtwys Sonne hire ches line875And schadewede on hire in wolde And feirede hir more a thousendfolde. Thorw the faste gat He con inteo, And at the outgong He lette faste beo. How so that was, beo we stille, line880For of alle thing God may don His wille. A, derworthé Qween, so gent and fre, That helpeth alle that fleoth to thee. Mi soule is comen to thee for nede, That at thi gate bat and loude doth grede, line885Bat and gredeth and loude gon crye, “Helpe me, swete Mayden Marie! Undo, Ladi, I thee biseche! Thou lete me a luitel cleche Of thulke grace that alle frovere line890That gostliche beoth in herte povere. Lo, hou I am biset heeroute, With my threo fon al aboute: The Fend that with me fihteth evere, The World, my Flesch, heo ne stunteth nevere. line895Withouten eny meth on me heo foth; Swithe gret harm heo me doth. Gret parlement heo habbeth inome: The Fend furst is forth icome; With threo hostes he deth me gret wo, line900With Pruide and Wraththe and Sleuthe also; The Worlde me hath with two hostes bistonde, That is, with Covetyse and Onde; And my Flesch me fondeth to spille With Glotenye and with uvel Wille. line905Gret wraththe heo habbeth to me inome: I am as campion overcome. But thou me helpe, Mayde Marie, Ichabbe ilore the maystrie. Thow, that art to all febull leche, line910Thow let me of thy dyches cleche Ther the castel is faste and stable And Charité is constable.”

Of this castel ichabbe a luitel told, Ac more me mighte a thousendfold, line915For alle the godschupes that in the world is Out of this castel icomen is. Thorw this laddre, God, hevene Drihte, From hevene into eorthe alihte, And nom of hire His monhede, line920Thorw whom He wrey His godhede. This is the yard that bereth the flour, That Maiden that bar hire Creatour, And thus the Child is iboren to us And such a Sone igeve to us. line925And nis He Wonderful therfore Whon He is thus for us ibore? So muche wonder nis of nothinge As two kuynden togeder bringe, And that either kuynde withalle line930Habbe that wole to heom bifalle, That never nouther ne wonte no wiht, Ac that either habbe al his riht. That is Jhesu, Godes Sone, That from hevene to eorthe wolde come line935To saughten His sustren that were toboren, And dilyveren the prison that was forloren. Two kuynden He hath, we witen bi thon, That He is soth God and soth mon.

Bihold now, mon, to Godes miht line940And His deden hou heo beoth diht, That thou aboute nouht fer se, Ac bihold hou boxum He wolde be That He wolde be boren of wommon And for ure sake bicomen mon. line945And seththen behold hou He us redeth And into saveté us ledeth On ful swete manere and on non othur, And seith thus to us, “Leve Brothur, I seo thee mislyken and al foryemed line950And out of thin owne lond iflemed, And thou seost wel that for nothing Thow hast of thiself no keveryng. Ne beo thou in wonhope non, Ac ful siker thou beo theron, line955Yif thou wole Me loven and understonde, Ichul thee bringe into thin owne londe. Ententyfliche thou herken to Me And do that Ich comaunde thee. Mi yok is softe inowh to weren line960And My burthene light inouh to beren. To Merci bihove I am al inome, And thus I am for thee icome, And Ich thee rede, thou suwe Me: Ichulle the batayle nyme for thee. line965To ple Ichulle this princes haven, And thi rihte Ichulle craven; For Icham of thi lynage, I may craven thin heritage; And Icham of freo nacion, line970Me oughte ihere My reson; And Ichabbe iwust with wynne The threo lawen withouten synne. For thee Ichulle to batayle wende, And siker beo thou of ful good ende, line975For Ichulle an ende overcome that fiht And todreynen al thi riht. Ne darstou on erthe thenchen elles nouht But God and thin evencristen to love in trewe thought.”

Lord, whuch freschipe! Hose nome yeme: line980Whon He that welde al thing and al mai deme Us schewed such frenschip and swetnes And a forbysne of boxumnes; Ac thulke forbisne me luitel telleth to, And selden in the world iseghen, ne yore hath do, line985For the worldlich mon evere iliche Loveth thing that is worldliche. Ac the gost of charité and of tholemodnesse Loveth ever goodschipe and boxumnesse, For whon to the world him geveth the mon, line990And the worldes good him waxeth on, He ne thenketh on God ne non other thynge Bote worldes catel togeder bringe; And whon the catel hath the maystrie alast, Hit is in his cofre biloke so fast line995That al he bicometh overgart proud And misdoth his neighebors bothe stille and loud. Nothing ne wilneth he largesse, But lordschupe and heighnesse. The forbysne of boxumnesse, iwys, line1000Al thorw pruyde forgeten is. Theose ne mowen Jhesu suwen with, For heore dede al tolyth, Ne His red ne leeveth heo nought. Whi thenne wolden heo wilnen ought line1005Of heritage in His kyndom, Thaugh He in batayle the ple biwon, Whon heo doth al that He forbat And nothing doth of that He hat, Ac ever secheth pride and heihnesse, line1010Ne biddeth heo nought of boxumnesse? Forthi Lucifer, as ye habbeth herd telle, Fel from hevene adoun to helle, And also I drede heo scholden an ende, Thulke that such werkes doth, aftur him wende. line1015Ac I ne sigge hit, not for thon, That mai ful wel everiche goode mon Habbe gret lordschipe and heighnesse, Castels and toures and gret richesse, And may wel don and Godes wille holde line1020And libbe God to queme wel, yif he wolde, Yif he lyveth in love and in boxumnesse, In sothschupe and in rihtwysnes, For God wilneth nothing on eorthe her But al monnes herte with trewe love and cler.

line1025Nou mihte sum mon asken thus, “Hou wolde God plede for us? Hou He eny batayle nom And won ure righte and the Fend overcom?” Lustneth thenne to me nou, line1030And ichulle ow tellen hou. fol. 295vTho Jhesu, Godes Sone, in the world was ibore, So stille and derne He was the Fend fore That he of His come riht nought nuste, Ac to beo lord and syre yit evere he truste, line1035As he hedde ben, ac his miht was binome Tho that Jhesu was ibore and into the world icome. Wel the Fend Him seigh in monnes weeden, Ac he nust what He was, ne whuch weren His deden. He Him seigh wel mon and icomen of monkunne, line1040Ac evere in the world He livede withoute sinne. The Fend wondrede swithe and seide, “What artou? Wher Thou be Goddes Sone that art icomen nou? Al this wyde world ichul geven Thee So that Thou bouwe and honoure me.”

Respondit Jesus

line1045Tho seide Jhesu, “Go awei, Sathan, go! Thi kuynde Lord ne schalt thow fonde so.”

Diabolus dicit

“What wenestou? I ne mowe understonde, That icham prince and lord of this londe, And in the seisyne habbe longe ibe line1050Thorw the heighe Kyng that grant hit me. Alle thing I seo and all thing ich wot, But of Thi thought nothing I not. Thou nymest ful muche an hond To benymen me enything in this lond. line1055Thaugh I nabbe miht over Thee, Wenestou my preie to benyme me? Nay, for that foreward thorw Soth and Riht Faste in Godes court is congraffet, apliht, That hose passede Godes heste line1060He scholde be myn and in sunne leste, An ende dyen thorw hard deth inouh, And the Kyng of Hevene nul do no wouh. What, wenestou such foreward breke, That was in Godes court ispeke?”

Respondit Jhesus

line1065And tho swete Jhesu him onswerde and tolde, “That foreward on ende wel was iholde, Ac thou hit bigonne formast to breke, Tho thou thorw treson to monkuynde speke And seidest that treo him was forbode line1070Lest he hedde the miht of Gode; Ac wolde he of the appel ete, Thenne, thou seidest, he hedde igete, For he scholde konnen al that God con, And he scholde never die forthon. line1075He agulte thorw thee, and elles he wer skere. Understond My reson: yif hit skile were That thou heddest alle forward of Me, And thou noldest holden hem, as anont thee.”

Diabolus dicit

“A, ich am bitrayyed!” quod the Fend tho. line1080“Nou ich am thorw ple overcomen so. Of whom and hou cometh hit, Such reson and such wit, That Thou so baldeliche darst nymen Thee Forte dispute ageynes me? line1085Thorw ple ichabbe iloren al anon, Ac so ne may hit nought gon; Algate he hath misdon, Thorw whom he is in my prison, And bote he beo forbought of me, line1090He ne oughte from wo disseysed be.”

Respondit Jesus

Tho swete Jhesu to him con sugge, “And Ichulle him thenne forbugge.” “Yif thou wolt him bugge to his feore, He schal costen Thee ful deore.” line1095“Hou deore?” quath Jhesu tho. “As he is worth, er thenne he go Out of bonde of my prison.” “That is skile,” quath Jhesu, “and good reson. Ne kep I nought togeynes riht, line1100Thorw maystrie binyme thee no wiht.”

Diabolus dicit

“No, ac er he dilyvered be, Thou most also muche delyvere me As al this world is nou worth, atte frome, With alle thulke that schulen heraftur come.”

Jhesus dixit

line1105“Bletheliche,” quod Jhesus, “al Ichul don this, For My luttel fynger more worth is Then such an hondred worldes ben, With al that folk that me may herafter sen.”

Diabolus dicit

The Fend tho to Jhesu onswere con: line1110“That is al soth I seo bi thon, For Thou maight al the world demen and dihte: For nou over Thee nabbe I no mihte. And woldestou Thi fynger geve, thaugh Thou so sugge, So unworth and so vyl chaffare to bugge?”

Respondit Jesus

line1115“Ye, and al My bodi for his raunsoun, But Ichul him habbe out of prisoun.” “Thou most yit more do ar Thou him habbe so, Tholen on eorthe wandrethe and wo. And yif Thou wole amenden his wough, line1120Thou most deth tholen thorw strong pyne inough.” And tho swete Jhesu him onswerde tho: “Al that thou hast seid al schal be do, For Soth seide hit ouhte ben so, And Riht come after and gef the dom tho. line1125And more then thou hast iseid Ichulle don To dilivere the thral out of prison.” Tho was the Fend siker and wende wel ethe Forte have biyeten thorw His dethe, Ac he was caught and overcomen, line1130As fisch that is with hok inomen, That, whon the worm he swoleweth alast, He is bi the hok itiyed fast.

A, mon, nim yeme and understond thee Hou fynliche in herte God loveth thee, line1135That wolde deth tholen thorw pyne withouten meth To save thi soule from pyne of deth! Al ure gult on Him He wolde take, And lodliche was bilad al for ure sake, For He that never no sunne dude, line1140Ne never nas with fulthe ifounden in no stude. In alle the lymes that hath the mon, Seththen Adam formest sunne bigon, Wolde that His lymes alle ipyned were To maken us of sunne al quit and skere: line1145For ure unwrestschupe here The coroune of thornes on His hed He beere, And for ure fol eye also His eyen weore blyntwharvet bo; And al was His face bifoulet with spot, line1150And eke grete boffetes among me Him smot; And for ure speche unwreste and vyl Atter heo Him dude to drinke, imeynt with eisil; For the otewyse werkes as there abonden, He lette bothe thurlen His feet and honden; line1155And for ure woke thoughtes He tholede smerte That me His syde thurlede right to the herte. What miht He thenne do for us more? No tongue may tellen of that fore, Ne no monnes herte ne mihte thenche so, line1160As He tholede for us pyne and wo. And ho is that ne mighte habbe pité Of such frendschupe and charité? Suche beo the duntes of batayle That He tholede for us withouten fayle. line1165Ac He tholede to dethe ben ibrought: Ure deth thorw His deth He hath forbouht, For more tholede He an hundretfolde Serwe and pyne, tho He dyen wolde, Then the Fend mihte for eny synne line1170Leggen hond uppon monkunne. For the soule loveth the bodi so That nevere heo nule him wende fro For no pyne ne for sore — Thaugh me hit tohewe evermore — line1175Er the fyf wittes ben loren outriht, Al heore vertue and al heore might: That is, the siht and the herynge, The speche and the smellynge, And the felynge he schal leosen an ende, line1180Ar he wole from the bodi wende: Kuynde ne may for nothinge Tholen her the tithelynge. Ac He that alle thing mai welde Doublede His peyne an hondredfelde, line1185For tho He pynede on the Crois, He gaf His soule with loud vois. Ther He schewede that He was God so, Ure raunsum He dude tho. The bodi yit livede withoute fayle, line1190And so He overcom the batayle. Kuynde ne mihte thole such peyne non, For the Fend ne mighte hit never legen on.

A, Marie, Mayden schene, Mihtful Moder and milde Qwene, line1195For deol mungen I ne may The pyne that thou tholedest thulke day! Ac the prophecye of Symeon Was folfuld tho bi thon, As with swerd in thulke stounde line1200Thi soule heddest tho ful bitter wounde. Ac thi joye doublede an hondrutfolde, Tho He from deth uprysen wolde, For nought worth weore His Passion, Neore His Resurexion. line1205Thou seghe openliche in alle thinge Of His batayle the endynge, Thorw Whom the Fend was al mat And the world forbought and brought in stat. The trouthe of us and the beleeve also line1210Forsothe bilevede al in thee tho. In wonhope weore His disciples uchon, Ac thou weore studefast ever in on, Ne mighte thee nothing tornen out; In trewe bileve evere thou weore, stille and loud. line1215Marie, Mooder of pité, Mayden ful of alle bounté, Ure bileeve was tho in thee, iwis, And nou al ure hope is That thou biseche thi Sone for us, line1220That so on Rode forbought us.

Ye habbeth iherd of swete Jhesu Hou He thorw His muchel vertu Us redeth to goode evermore, And hou He wolde us plede fore, line1225And hou He wolde to batayle wende, And hou He hit overcom an ende. Nas this a good Redesmon, That us so deore forbuggen con And hath irud us the way line1230Ther uchone of us that wole, he may To the blisful joye come, That so longe thorw Adam was binome? Understondeth nou forthure, notheles, Hou He is God and evere wes, line1235And ye mouwe openliche iseon That hit ne may not elles ben. O God al the world wroughte, And thulke God us alle forboughte; Other God nis non then He, line1240The God of Whom I seide er thee: Persones threo in Thrillehod And o God cleped in onhod. Men may also, clerkes that conne reden, Iseon His godhede thorw His deden, line1245For al the deden that He dude here With godhede and monhede imeynt were ifere. And nym nou yeme and thou miht sen Hou that ilke mihte ben. Hose hedde a swerd here line1250That wel isteled and kene were, And he hit into the fuir dude That hit were brennynge in the stude, Ho is that thenne mihte, Whon hit barnde so brihte, line1255The fuyr todelen the stel fro, Other the stel from the fuir mo? And hose with the swerd smite, Two kuynden he mighte sen and wite: The stel thorw kuynde kerveth, apliht, line1260And the fuir brenneth, and that is riht, fol. 296rAnd al of o swerd hit come. Also is of Jhesu, Godes Sone: Two kuynden He hath, we witten bi thon, That He is soth God and soth mon. line1265For atte neces of this privee, At the Caane of Galylee, A gistnynge he made, Architriclyn; Ther He torned water to wyn. Sixe vessels ther weoren idon, line1270Of water He bad hem fulle son. As mon He bad don water therin And as God He turned hit to wyn, And this ilke dede was al on, Of sothfast God and sothfast mon. line1275And elleswher ther He eode, Muche folk Him suwede of feole theode, That fyf thousend men He hath iset, And with fyve loves and twey fissches hem fed, And of the relef that hem levede bifore line1280Twelf cupeful weoren up ibore. As mon He hem the bred tobrek And as God He hath hem ifulled ek. Of Lazar also thou miht iseon ethe, Hou He him arerede from the dethe, line1285That foure dawes he leigh along In the buriles, that he stonk. With loud voys He clepede thus: “Lazar, arys and cum out to us.” Riht as mon He clepede him to line1290And as God He arerede him also. In alle His deden me may wel isen That He is God and ever schal ben. Thulke God alle thing dihte, That in the swete Mayden alihte. line1295Al ure beleeve in Him is — Ure treuthe and ure hope, iwis, — Persones threo in Thrillihod And o God thaugh in onhod.

Nou ye habbeth iherd witterly line1300Hou He is God almihti, Ac His strengthe ne may non telle, Herte thenke, ne mouth spelle, For the heighe nome Jhesu Hath in Him so muche vertu line1305That al that is in hevene highe, In erthe, and bineothen, feor and neighe, Bouweth to thilke nome uchon. Forthi ther ne may hit telle non, His miht and His strengthe hou hit geth. line1310But as a mon the rynde fleth, Sumwhat touchen ichulle fonde Of that ich may understonde. Tho Adam hedde iloren thorw synne Hevene and eorthe and paradyses winne, line1315The Fend hedde such miht tho That al the world moste after him go; For whom the world was furst wrouht He hath him under ibrought. Such strengthe he him tho ches line1320That prince of al the world he wes. Ther nas non, for his goodschupe, For penaunce, ne for holyschupe, Thauh he pynede himself in flesch and felle, That the Fend ne ladde him to helle. line1325Ac the strengthe of Jhesu, Godes Sone, Hym hath al mated and overcome. Overcomen and imat he was ful sone, Tho he wende of Him to done, As he hedde don of other alle line1330That he lette into helle falle; Alle he ladde herbifore after his wille And into helle con hem spille. To the Croys, as Cryst honged, he con come And wolde habben His soule inome, line1335Ac he faylede, the traytour; He was abated of his tour, For Godes godhede him hath doun cast Into helle and ibounden fast; For thorw His godhede His soule eode line1340Thidere for Hise that hedden neode, That yore hedden Him abide And sore longeden to gon Him mide. Helle gates He al tobreek And todaschte al the fendes ek. line1345A gret bite He bot, of helle nom And drouh alle Hise out uchon, That leeveden His nome and Him knewe And serveden Him with herte trewe. Such strengthe nas never iherd ar this, line1350Ne never schal but of Him, iwis, For the meste strengthe He al birevede That the Fend in the world hevede. He was enarmed ful stronge, That his gat wuste ful longe, line1355Ac tho the strengore him overcom; Gret preye He him binom. Forthi him seith wel Ysaye, That seith in his prophecye That He scholde Mihtfol icleped ben. line1360His strengthe may no mon iseon, Ne no tonge ne mihte reden, Ne thought thenken His mihtful deden. For His miht me oughte Him drede And for His swetnes Him love ful nede. line1365This is ure child and ure help, Ure strengthe and ure yelp, Ure beleve and ure socour, Ure treuthe and ur honour, That so boxum bicom for us, line1370He gaf Himself to saven us. And al o God dude this: Fader and Sone and Holigost, iwis.

Sumdel ye habbeth iherd nou riht Of His strengthe and of His miht, line1375Ac herkneth yit forthure of Ysaye, That cleped Him in his prophecie Fader of the world that scholde come, For while He walkede her, atte frome He folfulde in alle thinge line1380Alle holye prophetes biddynge. Hou He is Fader, ye schullen iheren, And hou we alle of Him istreoned weren. Thorw Adam we sungeden furst uchon And eeten the appel with him anon, line1385And alle we of him istreoned weoren; The cors that he beer, alle we beeren. Thorw kuynde we hedden the curs alle; Thorw riht ne might hit elles bifalle: Adam, ur fader, the forme mon, line1390Fleschliche streoned us everichon. Ac thulke fleschliche streonynge Beere us bale and serwynge Neore the grace of swete Jhesu, That us strenede thorw gostliche vertu. line1395Thorw Adam we weore to dethe idemet, Thorw Jhesu uprered and al iquemed. He is ure Fader ariht, And so goodliche us hath idiht That with His blod He us waschede of sinne line1400And brought us out of wo to winne. Never fader for no childe Of fyn love nas so freo ne mylde, That from the Roode for ure neode Riht into helle He eode; line1405Fourti tymen ther He wes Othat He uprisen ches — That was on the thridde day, Erliche uppon a Sonenday, Tho the night fro the day tobrek, line1410So seide Seynt Austin tho he spek. With Him He drough out alle Hise That diyeden in His servise, From the tyme that He Adam wroughte Othat He upros and us forboughte. line1415To His disciples He Him schewede ilome, And eet and dronk, eode and come. Fourti dawes He was heere fulliche And prechede hem Godes kineriche. Uppon Holy Thoresday, ther on His nome line1420Heo weren igedered alle isome Uppon a stude, ther He among hem com And of misbileve hem undernom. In whonhope and doute heo weoren uchon; Yit heo seghen him alyve, a lyuesmon, line1425Tho yit ne mihten heo for no wit Riht to sothe ileeven hit. Ac heore doute was ure biheve And fastnede ful wel ure bileeve, For muche us dude sikernesse line1430Of Thomas misbilevenesse, That nolde for no mon that was Bileeven that He ded and arisen was Ar he hedde hondlet the wounde so wyde That Longeus made in his syde line1435And seon the woundes grene and weet Whuche that weoren on honden and feet.

Tho schewed Jhesus him His wondes wyde In hondes and feet and thulke on His syde. “Thou art, ichot,” quath Thomas tho, line1440“Mi God and my Lord also.” “Ye, Thomas,” quath Jhesu Crist, “Thou hit levest, for thou hit sixt. Alle heo moten iblessed ben That hit leeven, thaugh heo hit not sen.” line1445Openliche He made thulke day Faste and siker ure fay. With his disciples He eet tho, As He was er iwont to do, And sette tweyne and tweyne to gon, line1450Yond al the world to prechen uchon, To alle schaft and to alle wihte, That is, to mon thorw rihte, That heo bileeven in Godes Sone, that is in Him, And that uche mon folwede Him, line1455In the Fader and in the Sone also, And in the Holygost, that glit of Hem bo. For hose neore iboren eft, at the frome, Into hevene ne mighte he never come, Ac thulke that beth ifulwed in riht bileeve line1460Schulen beo brought in Godes biheve. Wel openliche He scheweth us therfore That uche mon mot eft ben ibore, And yif we schulen eft iboren ben, We mote comen of sume streon, line1465That is, the water of vertu, Ther us gostliche streneth swete Jhesu; And whon He us hath so strened, iwis, Forsothe ure Fader thenne He is, And thenne we alle His children beth. line1470Sikerliche unwrestliche he deeth That such Fader ne loveth with al his thought. He ne eet of the appel riht nought; Baldeliche we mouwe thorw Him crave Ure rihtes in hevene to have, line1475For He hath alle the lawen iwust, Of o poynt ne hath He mist, That nevere neore iwust ne iholde, Er He Himself comen wolde. The forme mon that of eorthe com line1480Brought us werre and pees binom; That othur Mon from hevene com with meyn And hath iyolden ure pees ageyn. Fleschliche was the forme mon, That muche wo us broughte uppon, line1485That was out of paradys ipult — And al his offspring — for his gult; Ac ure gostlych Fader, swete Jhesu, Us bryngeth ageyn thorw His vertu; He that from hevene com, line1490From louh an heigh He us upnom. That from eorthe com, to eorthe he geth; That from hevene com, to hevene He steth, On Holy Thoresday ther al the folk iseigh, Whuche that stoden abouten him neih; line1495The wey He made us to lede, Thorw the skewes ther He eode. With sothnesse and wey and lif, The feire cumpanye Him ladde with That He out of helle nom, line1500That to muche blisse com. fol. 296vTo thulke blisse He made hem wende That ever lasteth withouten ende, Ther He woneth as He dude er, With His Fader, o God ther, line1505Persones threo in Thrillihod And o God thaugh in onhod, That alle thing wrouhte, as thou, mon, wost, Fader and Sone and Holygost. Thauh uche nome of thise thre line1510Be sinderliche seid, as He oughte to be, O God hit is, withouten care, Of alle schaftes Schuppare, To Whom joye and honour bicome, Withouten ende, the holy Gome.

fol. 37r (H) Lusteneth yet forther of Ysayes spelle, line1516For now ye han herd me telle, How swete Jhesu oure Fadur wes; Herkenyth how He is now Prince of Pes. fol. 37vBeforen I tolde yow uchon line1520How He is into hevyn igon; Ryght so, the sothe truly to syggen, He shall ageyn come this world to juggen, In bodi and soule and godhede, To deme bothe queke and dede. line1525But fyftene dayes before the Dome Fyftene tokyns ther shull come. The furst day the see upryse shall And stonden on hye as a wall, Fourti cupetys heire, iwys, line1530Then eny hill in the world is. That other day heo wole isonkyn byn, That eny mon unnethe may here isyn. The thrid day heo woll be notheles As full as heo furst wes, line1535And then woll whalles and grete fysshes with fynne, And all other smale fysshes that byn therinne, Gedryn hem on the watur uchone. But that wot no mon but God allone fol. 38rWhat is the betokenyng line1540Of the loude cry and yeiyng Thet heo wolleth with loude stevyn Gevyn and crye up to hevyn. And on the fourthe day heo shall With red fyre brennen all, line1545And all other watrys in every stede Shullen brenne as red as eny glede. The fyfthe day the tren that don stonde And floures and erbis in uche londe, Blod thei shullen blede, line1550Instede of here dewe, withoute drede. The sixte day byth not bold, Palyse ne pylere ne so strong hold, Castell, toure, boure, ne halle, But thei shull toskatur and down falle. line1555The sevynth day the stones uchon Woll lepe togedre and fyght anon, That thorwgh the fyght that there woll byn The stones woll breke and all toflyn. fol. 38vThe eyghte day betokynth gret wrache: line1560All yende the world the erthe shall quake, And men woll flyn into uche hurne. The erthequake shall be so loude and sturne, And on thylke dredfull, byttur day The pepull woll crye, “Weloway!” line1565And sey to monteynes, “Falleth on us! Erthe, toclyf and hyde us, That we this fere and erthequake ne syn!” How wroth oure Creature woll byn, For in alle hye hevyn blys line1570Non so holi ne so good is — Patryarch, apostell, ne martire, Confessor ne virgine with so feyre attyre, Prynce, potestate, ne angell, Ne non so bryght archangell — line1575That nold never synne done But he shall dredyn ageyne that Dome. Full sore mowe heo then dreden That byth all full of synfull deden. fol. 39rThe nynthe day alle the valeis that byth line1580And the hylles that we so hye syth Shull be made smethe and playn, And into here kynde shull they not turne ageyn. The tenthe day shull all manere men Gon out of here holes and of here den line1585And renne abowte as they were wod, As they cowthen nowther evyll ne good, Ne thawgh here hert shulde tobreke, On word myght not oon with other speke. The elevyth day the mone and the sterres alle line1590Shulle adown to erthe falle. The twelfthe day the bones of uche ded mon Shull come togedre uchon, Thawgh they be dryvyn nere so wyde; At here byrynes here soules they shull abyde. line1595The threttenyth day all maner men Shull dyen anoon that lyven then, That heo mowe, togedre with other, aryse And takyn here dome of God ryghtwyse. fol. 39vThe fourteneth day ther may nothyng werne, line1600But all the world on fyre shall berne. Hevyn and erthe shull byn aleyde, And the foure elementis shull byn unteyede, For thike fyre shall clansyn the eyre And makyn all thyng bryght and feyre, line1605And all the world shan iclansed byn; But watur ther shall no mon eft isyn, Ne never fyre in the world me syth When that fyre shall ben aquenchith. The fyftenethe day God wol taken line1610Hevyn and erthe and all hit newe maken, Not otherweys then hem beforen wrowght. Loke thou, thenke, ne wylle hit nowght, But He wole newen hem, iwys, In betur state then heo weryn, iwys. line1615Theraftur Jhesu wole His dome demyn, The angeles shull come and blowe the bemyn. Furst shull in body and soule aryse All that dyedyn in His servise, fol. 40rAnd all that eke that shull to the blysse fonde line1620Shul furst aryse and on the ryght syde stonde.

Then shall Jhesu come ryght thus, And His body tornen and showe to us Whad peyne He suffred for ur sake And how lodlyche He was for us itake, line1625Wyth scorges ibetyn withoute gryth, That the blode barst oute on ich a lyth, And how vylensli He wes ladde yet With crowne of thornes on His hed set, And how He suffred that the nayles stode line1630Thorgh fete and honden into the Rode, And how the spere that Him wonded smerte Browght blod and watur from his hert. And then Cryst woll clepe and calle And sey: “Thus myche I suffre for yow alle.” line1635Then helpeth us no pledyng there, Ne forsakyng, ny answere; Ne helpyth us ther castell, ne toure, Nowther palyse, halle, ne boure: fol. 40vAll thyng then shall torne to nowght line1640That is with monis hond iwrowght. Ther shull the synfull quake, And here tethe togedur hacke and shake, Ther may segge thenne no mon. But that uchon shull seyn here martyrdom, line1645And beforyn hym his juggement, sycorly, Shall byn iwryten apertely, And allso his synnes ther shull be knowe, Tofore all maner men, bothe hie and lowe. Then woll swete Jhesu to hem be syn line1650That shull that day isaved byn, And sey with mylde stevyn and swete: “When I was hongry, ye geve me mete; When I was afurst, ye geve me dryng; When I was naked, ye geve me clothyng; line1655When I was herberlasse, ye herberde me fayne, Bothe in heete, in cold, in wynde, and rayne; And ye comforted me in prison eke And loked to me when I was seke. fol. 41rComyth, my blessed children uchon, line1660And receyvyth the blysfull joy anon That to yow byth rewarded withoutyn endenge Fro this worldis begynnyng.” Then shull the blessed byn receyved an hyghe, In hevyn to walke Jhesu nygh.

line1665And the cursede shull in erthe byn, Of hevyn blys they shull nothyng isyn, But yet wyth the upreceyveng they shull agryse — When the saved shull upryse — So wery, so wrecched, so lodlyche, line1670Icharged with synne so hevyleche, That all hevyli on the erthe they shull steke, When thei heryn the Domesmonis speke Wyth gret and grymfull wrathe full sone. Thei shull heryn a full hard dome: line1675“Goth with the develys, ye acoursed bestes, For ye heled not my lawes and my hestes; Into the fire that shall last forevere, For ye han discerved here non other!”

fol. 41vThe blessed shull blysfull gon line1680In bodi and soule everichon, As bryght as ys the sonne, withoute fayle. Never hem nedeth to have travayle, But joy and blys that shall laste evermore. In good tyme they were ibore line1685That to that feste mowe takyn, That God wole with hem in hevyn makyn. So myche joy shall byn at theke feste That ever withouten ende shall leste — Ye, more joy then hert may thenkyn, line1690Or eye isyn, or yere iherkyn! Seche joy God hath igrethed there To hem that han loved Him here. And when they byth so endeles, Thenne He is aryght Prince of Pes.

line1695But theke that byth into helle inome, Thei shull never out come, And in theke stynkyng dethe-pytte Thei shull byn ipyned and to peyne iknytte. fol. 42rIn gret sorewe and pyne thei byth full sore, line1700For thei lyvyn in wanhope evermore. Thei wolde dyen yef thei myghte, But yet here soule may not thorgh ryghte. Uchon others peyne shall isyn, That here peyne shall dowble byn. line1705Another peyne they shull have of derknes, With gret fere and gret hevynes. And the foure is fyre that may not be queynte, And in stynkynge watur they shull be dreynte, And pycche wallyng ever among. line1710“Wayleway” ever shall byn here song, For hidor or thidur whersere heo turne They syn the foule Fynde in uche horne; That hem lothest were to syn, He shall ever toforyn hem byn. line1715And the stenche is overall there so strong, And byttur wormys there styketh among, Neddris, snakys, and taddis there strykyth; No place shall he there isyn that him lyketh. fol. 42vEvermore withoutyn ende they shull be wepyng line1720And wrynge here hondes with gret weylyng. Then shall the systere sey to the brother, The fremed and the sybbe uchon to other: “A, waryed wrecche, whad doost thou here? Acursed be the tyme thou iboryn were! line1725I may not for nothyng suffre thee, So foule thy synne stynketh on me! For mi nowne gret synne I styke in pyne, But a thousondefold more I suffre for thyne!” “Ye, but thou waryed wrecche forlore, line1730Accursed be the tyme that thou were ibore! I am forstyflyd among, Thi synne stynketh on me so strong!” Thus shall uchon to other menyn his sorewe, Ever withowtyn ende, on evyn and morewe; line1735Thawgh ther sete a mon for the nonys, And he myght leftyn in flesshe and bonys, Half the sorewe he myght not telle, Ne the peynes that byth in helle. fol. 43rTher is nowther solace ne love, iwys; line1740Ther is wepyng, pyne, and sorewe withoute blys. In theke foule, stynkyng pytte They shull in sorowe forever be knytte. Long is ever, and long is oo, But thei shull never come out of wo. line1745The Fynde shall here prince byn, that they served er; Sore withowten ende peyned they shull be ther.

Jhesu in hevyn, as I seyde before, Is Pryns of Pes and shall byn evermore. His pes shall falle never, line1750And His joy and His blys that is ever. Love, swetnesse, and pley, In hevyn hit neweth fro day to day. The furst joy that there shall byn, The blessed shall hit isyn, line1755The swete face of his Lorde there, His God and his Shapere. fol. 43vIn His feyreship He may Him showen, And all thyng in Him may knowen. So full he shall byn of joy and skyle line1760That he shall have all that he wyle; Whatsever he wylneth, withouten gabbe, Bese on Him and he may it habbe. Of hevyn he may ise the wydnes, The feyreshepe, and the heynes, line1765And he may ise the dereworth Quene, Goddis Modur so bryght and shene, The swete Made Seynt Marye, And all the feyre company Of angels so feyre and bryght. line1770They woll makyn him joye with here myght; The apostlys and the martiris, The confessors and the virginis, Alle wolle him joy makyn — Well is him that thidur may takyn! line1775And alle is fryndys he shall knowe there That he hede in this world here. fol. 44rFadur and moder, syster and brother, Miche joy everichon shall make with other — Ye, more then eny hert may understonde. line1780When thei hem syn in theke londe, So myghti thei shull byn everuchon That whidur thei wolle thei may gon, And thei shull be so lyght and swyft That whidursever they thenk they may be lyft, line1785And so slye and crafty they shull byn alle That thei shull do all thyng that in here hert doth falle. And wheresere the toon the tother metyth, With lovely chere thus he him gretyth: “Iblessed be the Lord That thee wrowght line1790And hidur to this blysse and joy thee browght. Iblessed be the tyme that thou ibore were, So myche joy I have that I se thee here. So myche blys I see on thee That all my blisse neweth me.” line1795Thet other answereth him anonryght: “Ever iblessed be God Allmyght, fol. 44vThat seche joy hath igeve to thee, Therfore my joy doubleth me; On thee I se mychell joy and blys line1800That all my joy newed is. And ever here is myrthe and gret song, And ever I se oure Shapere among, That ilike Himselvyn us hath wrowght And sethyn to this joy us browght. line1805Mi joy is doubled an hondredfold, For I have all that I wolde.”

Meche is the murthe that is at that feste That ever withoutyn ende shall leste. He that is lest feyre there line1810Shall shyne as the sonne forere. No nyd is thenne that sunne be there, iwys; They shull shyne seven sythe bryght then heo now is. When all thei shull be so bryght, Then, by all maner of ryght, line1815He most be feyre and bryght and more clere That more deserved that joy here. So mony wonyngis me may ther isyn, And gret compani of angels that woll ther byn, fol. 45rIn the joy so mony and so ryche, line1820In diverse joyes, never oon other ilyche; And ever beholde the bryght and the shene, The swete Mayden, oure hevyn Quene, The bryghtest and clennest of bodi and thowght Of alle the creaturis that ever God wrowght. line1825That is swete Marie, as I seyde before. Here feyrenesse is so mychell more Before all other in feyrenesse, As heo is worthe in hyenesse. So worthi and so hie is this Mayden myld line1830That Jhesu Cryst is here child. And as myche as heo hath of feyrenesse, As myche heo hath of worship and godnesse, For heo wernyth here love to no mon — Heo helpeth us and socoureth us ichon; line1835For, all that ever in hevyn is Maketh to here joy and blis. Here goodship ne here hienesse, Here frenship ne here bucsonnes, Ther may no mon thenke ne suggen line1840Ne here feyreship never juggen. fol. 45vFor els myght hit not be therfore, When He wolde of here be bore, That all feyrenes hath idyght And all thyng wrowght aryght, line1845That whoso were on there Hym bethowght In myche blysse were his hert ibrowght. But the moost joy that there woll byn Tho we shull God, oure Savior, isyn; That overgeth alle other blyssis uchon. line1850Togeyns thilk joy ther nys non, For thawgh a mon, withoutyn gabbe, Myght all that wyt holde and habbe That han all men that byth, That now in the world me syth, line1855And he sete and thowght bothe nyght and day, Ever whill the world leste may, Yet he shuld not for all his myght Openli understonden aryght Oon the lest joy that God hath idyght line1860To hem that han servid Him aryght. How myght he then for eny thowght Of Goddis feyrenes thenkyn owght?